Decisions
by elbcw
Summary: Two men grabbed him from behind. Aramis could not escape them. Athos took a couple of steps forwards but was pushed back by another man. When Athos tried to punch the man, he was grabbed and hit on the back of the head with the handle of a billhook. Athos crumpled, if he were not being held up by two men he would have crashed to the ground.
1. Chapter 1

Authors note: I wrote this a lot quicker than I thought I would, a few days leave from work helped!

It is mainly Aramis whump, with a little Athos whump/worry, some d'Artagnan whump/worry and an angst ridden Porthos.

Chapter One

This was not the way they had wanted the reconnaissance to go. They were supposed to observe from a distance. Find out the numbers and capabilities of the people. They were not supposed to be fighting five untrained farmers.

The men were armed with work implements, a scythe, a couple of hoes and three pitchforks were being used on them. They had not been given a chance to talk to the men, the men had simply started to attack them. Admittedly, thought Porthos, they had been taken by surprise. They had not been expecting to meet any resistance this far from the farmer's encampment.

He used his main gauche to push the pitchfork away again. Porthos was holding back, he did not want to hurt the man. If they could just wear the men down, force them into submission, then they could be reasoned with. But these farmers were determined. They were strong, years of hard labour had given them the ability to continue to fight. They were not disciplined in their actions, but they were holding their own.

Athos was facing two men, pushing one off as he fought back at the second. The lengthy improvised weapons forcing the swordsman to adapt his style. D'Artagnan was trying to reason with the man in front of him, a younger lad, about the same age as the Gascon, who did not seem as invested in the fight as the other farmers. Perhaps he was only with the other rebels from a sense of duty. Aramis was fending off a giant of a man who was using a hoe to thrust at the marksman. Aramis was being forced to jump out of the way frequently. Porthos guessed that his friend would have liked to have drawn his gun and shot the man. But that was not want they really wanted. They did not want to hurt the men, let alone kill any of them.

But it was increasingly looking like they would not have a choice.

MMMM

As the pitchfork was again pushed towards him Athos was forced to take a step back. He was not enjoying the fight. Not that he should enjoy any fight really. But generally he would have the upper hand once he had got the measure of the man or men he was opposing. This however, fighting men who were untrained and had no place in a swordfight, was not something he wanted to do.

The second man swung his hoe around and managed to knock Athos sideways a couple of steps. Athos knew he had to make the difficult decision to kill one or both of the men. He did not think he would be able to wear them down and after a very quick glance around he did not think any of his brothers would be able to assist him soon enough to be any real help. The older of the two men left himself open, Athos pushed his main gauche into the man's gut, using his foot to push the man backwards. The man stared at Athos in shock as he fell to the floor, the pitchfork falling from his hands as he did so.

The hoe wielding younger man used the opportunity to shove Athos backwards. The farmer was a solidly built man, with a bigger build than the swordsman who could not stop himself from staggering back. He hit a low bush and tipped over it, his arms flailing as he did so, the movement caused him to let go of his sword which fell to the floor. He landed hard, it took him a few seconds to orientate himself. He could not find his main gauche and his sword was tantalisingly out of reach of his outstretched hand. Athos scrabbled for his gun, but it was caught under a small stout branch of the bush. He tried to scramble up, but his foot was caught in the Y of another branch. Athos was trapped. The more he tried to pull himself free the more the bush seemed to grab him and keep him in place.

The farmer that had pushed him smirked as he advanced towards his helpless victim.

MMMM

Aramis jumped aside as the big man swung the hoe at him again. The man was showing no signs of tiring. If anything, Aramis was beginning to consider surrendering to the man, but he did not think the giant of a man would accept his surrender.

He had been turned around by the constant need to jump out of the way of the big man's reach. Aramis could see his brothers all still busy fighting. Porthos and d'Artagnan appeared on the verge of taking out both of their men. Athos had been forced to kill one of the farmers attacking him and had been pushed back into a bush. The swordsman appeared to be struggling to pull himself back up as his attacker advanced on him.

Aramis realised the farmer was going to attack his helpless friend. Quickly turning his full attention to the giant in front of him Aramis took a chance. As the man swung his implement to the side Aramis stepped in and thrust his main gauche into the man's chest. He hated having to kill the man, but if it came down to the life of someone attacking him or one of his friends lives he would always choose his friend first.

Aramis pulled his gun.

MMMM

Athos was trapped and about to be killed by the advancing farmer. D'Artagnan pushed the pitchfork to the side with his parrying dagger, twisted his sword and stepped into the man he was facing, taking him by surprise. He smacked the hilt of the sword into the side of the young man's face. The man fell to the ground stunned.

D'Artagnan wasted no time in pulling his gun and firing at the man who was about to pull back his hoe and push it into Athos' chest. Simultaneously two other gunshots hit the man. The man twisted slightly with each shot before falling backwards, his hoe landing across his body a look of surprise on his face.

Porthos lowered his gun, before moving forward quickly to Athos who was panting and staring at the space where his attacker had been. D'Artagnan closed the gap between them. He bent down over the man they had just shot, he was showing no signs of life.

Porthos had pushed his way over the bush, holding its branches down with his boot as he leaned forward to help Athos up. D'Artagnan bent the Y shaped branch and pulled Athos foot away from it to assist him.

It took a few seconds to extricate their friend, but he was eventually stood upright in front of them trying not to look shocked at what had almost happened.

Athos looked down at the two bodies in front of him, blinking a few times. D'Artagnan had his hand resting on Athos shoulder, he was not convinced his friend was steady enough to stand on his own.

A slapping noise made them all turn.

MMMM

Porthos looked in the direction of the noise his eyes widening as he realised what had happened. The giant that Aramis had been fighting was lying dead, with the marksman trapped underneath.

The man, broader and much heavier than their friend had fallen forward as he died and somehow caught Aramis under his bulk. The marksman was using his free left arm to try to get their attention, in the few seconds it took Porthos to work out what the noise was the slaps became weaker and stopped.

Porthos and d'Artagnan hurried forward, with Athos only a couple of paces behind. D'Artagnan skidded to the floor and grabbed Aramis' hand whilst Porthos began to heave the dead weight of the man off their suffocating friend. Athos bent down to help, between them they tipped the man off Aramis.

Aramis gasped for air and flailed around a little as he tried to get his bearings. D'Artagnan grabbed him around the shoulders and pulled him up to sit stilling the marksman's arms as he did so.

'How did you manage that?' asked Porthos as he crouched in front of his friend resting his hand on Aramis' leg.

'Had to make a choice,' panted Aramis, 'I knew...he was falling forward. I took a step back...stumbled to the floor...had to shoot the man...attacking Athos.'

Athos sighed, 'so you chose to save me at your own expense?'

Aramis shrugged. Porthos rolled his eyes.

'But we 'ad it under control, you're not the only one that can shoot straight,' said Porthos with mock admonishment.

Aramis managed a smile.

'Are you...hurt?' asked Aramis as he looked at Athos.

'I might ask you the same thing, other than my pride I think I will be fine and from the looks of you there are two prides' that need fixing amongst us.'

Porthos laughed as Aramis looked away for a moment trying to hide his embarrassment.

Athos and Porthos rose and took in their surroundings. D'Artagnan stayed with Aramis who was still trying to control his breathing.

'Weren't there five farmers attacking us,' said Porthos as he looked about.

'I think mine is missing,' said d'Artagnan looking over to the spot he had left the man on the ground, 'I didn't kill him, he might have only been stunned when I knocked him over.'

'A pity,' remarked Athos, 'it would have been useful to interrogate him.'

MMMM

Porthos looked over the doublet that Aramis was buttoning up. He smoothed his hand down the side of it and brushed off some of the dust.

'I doubt it was pristine before the fight, a little dirt will not look out of place,' said the marksman with a smile.

Porthos did not like the idea of either Aramis or Athos going off on their own. Both men had come close to being seriously injured. But he had to admit that they were the only ones out of the four of them who would be able to pull off the brief infiltration they had planned.

Athos was looking longingly at his sword as he picked up the scythe.

'Farmers do not routinely carry soldier's swords,' pointed out d'Artagnan, 'I should be going, not either of you.'

'You are more likely to be recognised than either Aramis or myself...and Porthos, these doublets would be too small for you and that one,' Athos nodded towards the big man that Aramis had killed, 'his doublet is too bloody.'

Porthos shook his head, still unhappy with the plan. D'Artagnan had complained when Aramis had suggested that he and Athos walk into the farmer's encampment wearing the doublets of the deceased farmers. But Athos was correct, the man that had escaped when they were helping Aramis would likely recognise d'Artagnan if he were to turn up in the encampment.

'Just be careful, and don't stay any longer than you really need to. We're only here to observe,' said Porthos when he had finally decided that Aramis' doublet did not need any further brushing down.

'We will be fine my friend,' said Aramis with a smile as he put on one of the farmer's hats.

As the men walked away Porthos thought back to the briefing Treville had given them. Intelligence had been received that a group of farmers were massing a few miles outside Paris. Their plan was to march on the Palace and demand a decrease in the taxes that had recently been imposed on them. The Musketeers were to observe the group then return and report. Treville would then be able to assess exactly what he would need to disband the group of annoyed farmers peacefully.

The Musketeers all knew the only way to prevent the farmers protesting was not to increase their taxes. But that was not going to happen.

MMMM

'Are you sure you didn't injure yourself in the fall?' asked Aramis looking down at Athos gait.

Athos glanced at his friend before replying, 'I have probably bruised my ankle, but it is not causing me any issues. You nearly suffocated, I do not think you can play the medic with me at the moment.'

Aramis chuckled. They continued walking in silence for a few minutes. Athos looked ahead for any sign of the encampment. They knew the farmers had several encampments. A large one and a few smaller ones scattered around. If the gathering were to last for too long the harvest would suffer which would have the knock-on effect of leaving people with little food over the winter. The sooner they could disband the groups the better.

As the large encampment came into view they slowed their walk slightly, the regimented walk of a soldier might have stood out amongst the country men. They entered the encampment, deliberately not making eye contact with any of the inhabitants, they wanted to avoid any conversations if they could.

The men had set up tents and several fires. A small pen had been created for goats, one was being taken for slaughter as they passed. The camp was well organised.

'It might help if we could find the leader. This much organisation did not happen without leaders,' remarked Athos quietly.

Aramis nodded and indicated a larger tent where several older men were gathered. The two Musketeers approached slowly, turning off to watch from between two smaller tents. Aramis faced away from the larger tent so that Athos could observe it whilst pretending to be in a conversation.

Two men were deep in discussion with others listening. They were not close enough to hear the conversation, but it appeared to be heated. A younger man, about d'Artagnan's age, was stood nearby he appeared to be the subject of the discussion as the older men indicated him several times. Athos looked at the younger man for a moment.

'I think the man who got away from us earlier has reported our presence. Our reconnaissance may have to be cut short,' said Athos as he steered Aramis away, 'even we could not hold off this many angry men.'

'We've probably learned all we can anyway,' replied Aramis as he walked hurriedly along with Athos.

As they progressed through the camp Athos noticed a couple of men look at them curiously. One man pointed at them both.

'I think we have been recognised as intruders,' he said as he pushed Aramis into a faster walk away.

MMMM

They walked as fast as they could without breaking into a run. It was clear they had been seen and that the men knew they were not meant to be there. They were about two hundred yards from the rendezvous point when they found themselves surrounded.

Athos held out his hands in supplication. Aramis stood back slightly to let him take the lead, although he suspected they would not be able to reason with the men.

'Why are you wearing stolen jackets?' asked one of the men.

The young man that had escaped from them was standing close to the front of the group. The older farmer was with him, the man looked angry. The man also bore a striking resemblance to the big man Aramis had been forced to kill. The marksman suspected the older man was the giant's father.

'We found them,' said Athos, 'we found them along the road, we were cold. We have nothing.'

Aramis could tell none of the men believed Athos' hastily made up lie. They began to advance. Neither of them would be able to fight back. They were only armed with daggers tucked into their boots, it would have looked too obvious to reconnoitre the encampment armed.

Two men grabbed him from behind he tried to shrug out of their grasp, but as they had already found, the farmers were strong men. Aramis could not escape them. Athos took a couple of steps forwards but was pushed back by another man. When Athos tried to punch the man he was grabbed and hit on the back of the head with the handle of a billhook. Athos crumpled, if he were not being held up by two men he would have crashed to the ground.

Aramis shouted out in protest, but a hand grabbed him around the mouth muffling the sound. He could only hope Porthos and d'Artagnan were close enough to have heard the scuffle and know that they were in trouble.

MMMM


	2. Chapter 2

Authors note: thanks for the reviews/favourites and follows.

Chapter Two

Porthos and d'Artagnan ran in the direction they had heard Aramis shout. It sounded as though the marksman was trying to call for help but had been stopped mid-shout.

They found themselves in a clearing, two men were holding a struggling Aramis on the ground, the marksman was being prevented from speaking by one of the farmers covering his mouth with his gloved hand. Athos was lying, apparently unconscious in the centre of the clearing.

As they skidded to a halt, guns drawn and aimed at the men who were holding Aramis on the ground they found themselves surrounded. Farmers appeared from all around the clearing. Porthos realised how stupid they had been to run straight into the trap. When Aramis had shouted for help the farmers must have retreated out of sight.

D'Artagnan pulled his sword and tried to push some of the men off but was tripped to the ground by the handle of a scythe, before being punched by one of the burly men leaving him unconscious.

Aramis was still struggling against the men holding him but stilled when a hand scythe was touched to his throat. He glared at Porthos who was still aiming his gun at the men holding him.

Porthos glanced around and realised that the farmers were threatening the lives of all his friends. A knife had been placed at the back of Athos neck and a spade was poised over the prone form of d'Artagnan.

MMMM

 _An hour later…_

'Aramis…'

'Aramis, please wake up…'

Athos opened his eyes a little, he heard Porthos calling for their friend a few more times before he managed to turn his head a little and focus on his surroundings.

He was lying on a stone floor in what must have been a cellar. A large empty wine rack lined the wall he was facing. There was a dim light, a torch must have been burning nearby.

Porthos was still asking Aramis to wake up. Athos wondered why Porthos was only speaking to Aramis and not to himself. He could not remember how they had come to be in the cellar. He remembered Aramis and himself being surrounded and Aramis being grabbed but nothing beyond that.

His head ached a little but he was not concussed, of that he was sure. He moved his fingers and slowly turned to lie on his back, he did not appear to be injured.

'Athos,' said Porthos.

'What happened?'

'Please check on Aramis first,' said Porthos. Athos detected a sense of desperation from his friend.

Athos pushed himself up to sit, he glanced around the room. He was sat on one side near the wine rack. Porthos was leaning against a stone wall opposite a barred doorway. D'Artagnan was lying awkwardly near the door, the young Musketeer was unconscious but appeared to be breathing normally. Aramis was lying a couple of yards from d'Artagnan. The marksman looked dishevelled, he had a bruise on his cheek, his doublet was ruffled. It was obvious the man had been in a fight. A dark stain and accompanying pool of blood on the leg of his breeches told Athos why Porthos was so anxious about their friend.

'He's been stabbed, I think it's still bleeding.'

Athos crawled across to Aramis, he checked the stab wound to the man's leg. He quickly pulled his scarf from his neck and began to tie it firmly around the wound. The marksman did not stir. Athos pushed his friend onto his back and quickly checked him for any other obvious injuries.

'I don't think he was hurt anywhere else, one of them pushed him into the wall. Then they stabbed him...I couldn't get him to wake up…'

Athos looked across at d'Artagnan.

'He was knocked out when we came to find you, he's not woken up since…but he has stirred a couple of times...'

Athos rearranged d'Artagnan to lie on his back and double checked him for any other injuries when he found none he turned to Porthos who had not moved. Athos wondered why his friend had not already dealt with their unconscious brothers.

Porthos looked down when he realised what Athos was wondering, he lifted his left hand up, a manacle with a chain was keeping him restrained. The man could not move from his position sat by the wall.

'Where are we?'

'I don't know…'

Athos watched as Porthos continued to look at the floor, the man looked as though he had done something wrong, as if their current plight was somehow his fault. Although Athos could not understand how.

'Tell me from the beginning, what happened?'

Porthos sighed and finally looked up at Athos, 'we heard Aramis shout for help. We rather stupidly ran straight into the clearing. You were already unconscious and Aramis was being held by two farmers. The others had hidden, they came out, surrounding us. D'Artagnan tried to fight them off but was tripped and knocked out. They were threatening each of you, I 'ad no choice but to surrender.'

'I understand,' said Athos nodding.

'The leader of the farmers, a man named Luc, he said they were taking us, he didn't say why...I protested, telling 'im he had no right to detain us, telling him we're Musketeers, but it made no difference. They grabbed me and I tried to shrug out of their grasp, I pushed them about a bit...Luc took exception to me...he had them bind my arms behind me, then they gagged me and blindfolded me.'

Athos frowned, 'did they have a cart?'

'No, I guess they carried you and d'Artagnan. Aramis was forced to act as my guide. He told me they had our guns trained on you and d'Artagnan the whole time. If he had tried to run, or release me they would have killed you both.'

'How far have we travelled?'

'I'm not sure, I couldn't keep track of the route. Aramis said he was keeping an eye on our surroundings so that we would be able to find our way back...I'm fairly sure we went across some sort of bog. The ground was wet and it was difficult to walk through. There were places where Aramis was forced to walk ahead of me and lead me. We had to be in single file...I 'ope he remembers the way back. I don't think we'll be able to guess.'

Athos looked across at the still form of the marksman, the bruising to his face looked worse in the short time he had been talking to Porthos.

'We're in a big house, Aramis said there weren't many farmers guarding the place. If we can escape from here,' Porthos indicated the cellar, the chain keeping him restrained clinking as he did so, 'we should be able to get out of the house easily. I don't think it's far from here to the bog we came through.'

Porthos paused looking across at Aramis and d'Artagnan. Athos realised his friend did not want to tell him what had happened next.

MMMM

Porthos looked back at Athos who was waiting for him to continue. He sighed, Athos needed to know what had happened and he felt responsible. If he had not annoyed the farmers when they were first taken Aramis might not have been injured.

'We were brought down here, into this room. The farmers were still annoyed with me for trying to fight them off. They could have just left us in here, but they wanted to humiliate me more…' Porthos paused holding up the manacle, 'they chained me up...I couldn't stop them…'

Athos moved from where he had been knelt next to d'Artagnan and crouched in front of Porthos.

'Whatever happened, Porthos, it can't have been your fault.'

Porthos shook his head, he was not ready to accept that he was not at fault yet.

'After they had chained me up, keeping a gun on you two the whole time to stop Aramis from reacting they began to leave...a couple of the farmers were taking an interest in d'Artagnan...an unhealthy interest.'

Athos nodded, he understood what Porthos was intimating.

'They asked outright if they could have him. Luc did not react either way. One of them bent down and grabbed his arms and started to drag him out,' Porthos paused shaking his head before looking at Aramis again.

'Did Aramis stop them from taking him?'

'Yeah,' said Porthos sadly, 'he pushed the one who was dragging him away and punched out at the other. The first one grabbed 'im by the arm and swung him round. He crashed into the wall, hit 'is head. He was stunned. They kicked his legs out so he ended up on the floor and one of them stabbed him. Luc told them to stop and ordered them out. I begged them to let me go so that I could deal with his wound, but Luc just shook his head and left. I don't think they care about our welfare.'

'This was not your fault,' said Athos.

'I could have helped Aramis when he was defending d'Artagnan…'

'It might not have made a difference, they might have shot one or both of you. They clearly do not need us all for whatever they want us for.'

Porthos looked at the ground again, unconvinced by Athos' words. Athos returned to Aramis and checked the wound on his leg, then crossed to d'Artagnan who was beginning to stir.

MMMM

Athos knelt by the young Musketeer as he blinked a few times trying to focus. He looked up at Athos who watched him with concern.

'I'm fine...I think,' he said as he allowed Athos to help him to sit.

D'Artagnan took a few seconds to look around, his eyes settling on Aramis.

'He is injured but is breathing fine at the moment. How is your head?'

'I don't feel dizzy,' replied d'Artagnan glancing across at Porthos, 'what happened after I got knocked out?'

Porthos looked at the ground. Athos sighed.

'It is not your fault Porthos,' said Athos.

Athos spent a few minutes retelling the sequence of events to d'Artagnan who was shocked at what had happened and why Aramis had been injured. Athos laid a hand on the younger man's shoulder.

'We will not let anything happen to you,' he said realising the man needed a little reassurance.

'Why are they keeping us alive? If they are prepared to...assault us, they clearly do not care about us.'

Porthos looked up again, 'Luc said we're to be executed as an example.'

Athos frowned, 'an example of what?'

'The lad that escaped from us, 'e told Luc that we attacked him and his friends, not the other way around. They're gonna kill us to show that they won't take the tax hike easily.'

As he spoke Porthos had been looking at the manacle that was keeping him prisoner, he looked up.

'If I had a thin knife I could pick this and maybe the lock on the door,' he said with a determination Athos was pleased to hear.

Porthos had been quite worryingly maudlin since Athos had come around. The Musketeer still needed to be persuaded that their predicament was not his fault but there was time for that, thought Athos. The first thing they needed to do was get out of the room they were being held in.

Athos rose from d'Artagnan's side and began to look around. D'Artagnan looked at Athos for a moment his face one of concentration.

'What?'

'Didn't you and Aramis have knives in your boots when you left to look at the farmers camp. Were you searched?'

Porthos shook his head, 'they only took the obvious weapons from us all as far as I know. I don't know if they had checked your boots before d'Artagnan and I reached you.'

Athos had bent over and was feeling the inside of his right boot, he shook his head when he did not find the small dagger. He and Porthos looked over at d'Artagnan who was crouched by Aramis checking his boot. D'Artagnan paused, a smile playing briefly across his face as he pulled out the knife the marksman had secreted there.

'Mine might have fallen out when we were brought here,' said Athos as d'Artagnan passed the small dagger to Porthos who set to work on the manacle.

'Try to wake Aramis, we're gonna need him conscious or we're gonna be guessing the way out.'

Athos moved to the other side of the marksman and leaned forward to gently shake the unconscious man. Aramis was pale but breathing steadily. Athos hoped the man had not already lost too much blood.

'Aramis…'

The marksman took a deeper breath as his eyes fluttered open. It took him a few seconds to focus on Athos.

'Can you remember where you are?'

Athos knew they needed to assess their friend's well-being as a priority. Aramis was essential to their escape.

Aramis appeared to be thinking, Athos watched as his friend ordered his thought.

'D'Artagnan…'

Aramis tried to sit up, Athos pushed him back down.

D'Artagnan leaned forward so that his friend could see him, realising why he was concerned.

'I'm fine, I'm here.'

Aramis calmed down and looked between the two men and nodded.

'They tried to take you,' he said.

'And you stopped them...thank you,' said d'Artagnan leaning forward and helping his friend to sit.

Once they had moved Aramis to sit it was clear the man was struggling to stay upright. Athos glanced across to Porthos who was watching them with concern before returning to picking the lock on his manacle.

'Can you remember the way out?' asked Athos again.

Aramis thought for a moment before nodding slowly as he closed his eyes.

D'Artagnan shook Aramis slightly, 'stay awake then.'

Aramis managed to open his eyes again, but it was obvious he was not going to remain conscious without them keeping him focused.

MMMM


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Porthos made short work of the lock on the barred door. He stepped back, giving the dagger to Athos as he did so. It was the only weapon they had between them. Athos peered out of the barred part of the cellar, before beckoning the others to follow him.

D'Artagnan waited for Porthos to take up his position on the other side of Aramis who was valiantly trying to stay conscious.

'Top of the steps, turn right along a corridor, I don't remember seeing any guards.'

Athos nodded and led the way up the stone steps. D'Artagnan and Porthos helped Aramis who was forced to use his injured leg a little as they ascended the steps. D'Artagnan took to quietly talking to the marksman in an attempt to keep him focused.

They paused again as Athos opened the door and looked out, he disappeared for a few seconds before returning holding a candlestick. He was holding it upside down, intending to use it as a more formidable weapon than the dagger which he passed back to Porthos.

They made their way along the bare corridor. The house must have been big to have such a large servants area. Torches lit their way flickering as they passed. They did not meet anyone. As they neared the end of the corridor they were faced with another door. Athos turned back to Aramis.

'There's a large hallway on the other side...might be someone there.'

Athos nodded and looked toward Porthos. Porthos helped d'Artagnan to manoeuvre the injured man to the side of the corridor and lean him on the wall. They did not want to sit him down in case they needed to move quickly.

'I've got him,' said d'Artagnan.

Porthos crossed to Athos wielding the knife. Athos quietly opened the door, they both slipped out. D'Artagnan could not see what was happening in the hallway, the odd shadow flitted across the gap in the slightly open door.

'When we get out there,' said Aramis quietly, 'there's a big door, we need to leave through it...I don't remember there being anyone outside...this place is quite secluded…' Aramis was panting slightly, 'I think they know the bog keeps it safe.'

'Save your breath until we need you,' said d'Artagnan.

Aramis managed a nod. D'Artagnan could not help noticing how heavy Aramis was becoming, he was supporting less and less of his own weight as they stood by the door. Athos had looked at the marksman with concern before they started out. It was clear Aramis was very weak, they were all trying not to believe he had lost too much blood already. Before they had left the cellar Porthos had redressed the stab wound using Aramis sash, the scarf soaked through with the marksman's blood.

The door was pushed open, d'Artagnan tensed up slightly. Porthos appeared with a slight grin on his face.

'They're all drunk, we took a couple of 'em out, but most of them are asleep,' he said as he helped to peel Aramis off the wall.

'We're to head towards the main door,' said d'Artagnan as they moved into the hallway.

Porthos steered them towards the door, Athos joined them from another room. The hallway was tatty, the house had not been lived in for a while but the paintings that remained on the wall betrayed the wealth of the place. D'Artagnan wondered if the farmers had picked the place clean, not all the farmers would have been as dedicated as others. Some of the lower paid labourers might not have thought twice about taking some of the smaller ornaments to sell for money.

Athos pulled the heavy, ornate door open and looked outside.

'No one,' he said as he opened the door wider.

A set of five steps led to a gravelled driveway that swept away from the house.

'I remember the gravel,' said Porthos as he and d'Artagnan slowly helped Aramis down the steps, 'which way?'

Aramis blinked a few times before indicating the direction they should go with a wave of his hand.

They moved across the gravel to walk on the grass alongside it. After two hundred yards they reached a set of impressive metal gates which stood open. They walked through, a rough road ran passed the big house. Athos turned back to look at Aramis whose head was bowed.

D'Artagnan shook Aramis slightly to stop him passing out.

'Sorry,' he said as he managed to raise his head, 'straight on, the boggy land is over there...there was a torch at the edge. They'd marked the route out with torches...they weren't lit though.'

D'Artagnan found himself looking at Athos with concern. The dusk was fast taking what remained of the daylight from them. If no one had lit the torches they would struggle to cross the bog.

'There was a bit of marshland near my farm,' he said as they made their way off the road in the direction Aramis had indicated, 'we lost a couple of horses in it. They get stuck and panic.'

The ground became damp, they had reached the edge of the bog.

MMMM

Porthos looked out across the bog, the green blanket of mossy grass looked harmless enough. The delicate yellow patches of flowers making the area look quite pleasant in the fading light. But he knew the dangers the area could hold. There would be obvious dank ponds of water and not too obvious watery holes.

'You two walk ahead, I'll walk with Aramis, just wait for his instruction before changing direction and tread careful,' he said as d'Artagnan relinquished his hold on the marksman.

Porthos realised they were going to be lucky to get through the bog unscathed.

'I can see the first marker torch,' said Athos, 'Aramis, can we just walk straight ahead towards it?'

Aramis managed a nod, 'the path twisted more further in, but to start it's quite straight.'

Slowly they began to make their way across. Athos had found a tree branch and was poking it on the ground ahead of him as he walked. He was pausing occasionally and making adjustments to the route. D'Artagnan followed his lead and Porthos followed d'Artagnan. He and Aramis were sinking slightly into the soft earth as they moved, their combined weight causing the bog to try to suck them in even on the relatively firm area that formed the pathway.

As they reached the first torch Aramis said quietly, 'to the left.'

Athos looked over and pointed at the next unlit torch. They moved off again. Porthos adjusted his grip on Aramis who was doing his best to walk but was limping more and more. The grip of his hand on Porthos' shoulder was becoming loose. Porthos just hoped his friend could stay conscious long enough to get them through the bog.

As they walked Aramis began to speak quietly to Porthos so that the others could not hear.

'Once we're through this...it's a straight line. Look for trees...to your right and keep going…'

'You can tell us that when we're through the bog,' replied Porthos, although he knew why Aramis was telling him the route.

Aramis did not think he was going to be conscious for much longer.

'You'll have to leave me if they start to follow…'

'No.'

'Porthos…'

'No. Now be quiet until you need to tell us the next direction to go in.'

Porthos was not prepared to listen to Aramis saying he was not going to make it. He was not prepared to listen as he friend faded away from him. He knew they were already on borrowed time with the injured man but there was still a chance and he was determined they were going to take it.

They reached the next marker, Aramis looked to the right of them.

'Slowly through here. It veers to the left in about fifty yards then straightens up.'

Athos set off, poking the tree branch as he went. The pace slowed as Athos checked each step he took.

'Left here,' said Aramis.

Athos carefully turned and poked the branch downwards. It slipped into the boggy water. He took a couple of steps further forward before trying again and finding firm ground. They proceeded.

A noise behind them made the uninjured men turn.

'It's a fox,' said d'Artagnan.

Porthos sighed. The last thing they needed was for the alarm to be raised. They could not quicken their pace.

'Aramis, how much further?' asked Athos as he continued to poke his stick into the ground before taking a step.

When Aramis did not respond both Athos and d'Artagnan turned and looked back with concern. Aramis' head was bowed again.

'Hey,' said Porthos shifting his hold again.

Aramis lifted his head again and looked at them with unfocused eyes.

Athos repeated his question.

'At the next torch, head right for about one hundred yards, then its left until the edge of the bog.'

Athos nodded, he briefly made eye contact with Porthos who shook his head. Porthos knew what Athos was thinking. They were all thinking the same thing. The same thing Aramis had intimated earlier. Aramis was not going to make it. He was barely conscious as it was, his steps were uneven, Porthos was taking most of his weight now. Porthos did not want to think about the implications of Aramis passing out and them not being able to rouse him.

A gasp from d'Artagnan followed by a damp sucking sound brought a new issue for them to worry about.

MMMM

Athos took a couple of steps forward before he realised his foot had sunk into the boggy earth. D'Artagnan was already up to his knees in the wet cloying mossy water. He was trying to grab at the firmer ground of the pathway but his movements were making him sink quicker. The Musketeer had a look of terror on his face as he tried to squirm out of the watery trap.

D'Artagnan was only a foot away from the path, Athos knelt down and leaned forward he grabbed at the other man's wrists and managed to make eye contact.

D'Artagnan was breathing fast as Athos took hold of him.

'Look at me. Calm down. Stop struggling...the more you struggle the quicker you sink. You know this…'

With an effort, d'Artagnan stilled his panicked movements. But he was still sinking, although slower.

'You know better than us, how to get out of this, think about what you need to do.'

Athos knew the younger man needed to be kept focused on the task of freeing himself from the bog. The swordsman had to remain calm for d'Artagnan's sake.

'Porthos put me down and help them, I'm not going anywhere,' said Aramis, with a new found energy of his own.

A few seconds later Porthos was there, knelt beside Athos taking d'Artagnan's arms to free Athos to help the trapped man.

'I need to get one leg free...the water is in my boots I don't think I can pull them out…'

'Then don't...I'll buy you some more boots d'Artagnan,' said Athos trying to keep his voice impassive.

D'Artagnan nodded still breathing a little fast, he had paled considerably. He started to wrench his left leg up, Athos lowered himself to lie down to spread his weight, he reached forward and grabbed d'Artagnan's knee and helped him to pull. The bog was reluctant to release its captive.

As he pulled his left leg up d'Artagnan sank further in. With a plop, he managed to free his left leg stretching it out behind him and leaning forwards slightly. Athos reached forward and grabbed the man around the waist hooking his fingers around d'Artagnan's belt. Porthos had managed to encircle his arms around the slighter man's chest. D'Artagnan was hanging onto Porthos with all his strength.

Athos released his right hand and began to drag at d'Artagnan's right leg which had sunk to the thigh. He reached down into the bog and pulled at d'Artagnan just below the knee. They slowly pulled him out.

Pothos toppled back with d'Artagnan landing sprawled at his side, both boots gone, victims of the bog. All three men were breathing heavily. Athos stared at the watery bog that nearly became d'Artagnan's grave.

The situation was now considerably worse. Both d'Artagnan and himself were soaked through, the water was cold and the encroaching dusk had cooled the air a few degrees. It would not take long, once the surge of energy had worn off, for them both to start shivering. They needed to get out of the bog quickly. They needed to get warm and dry.

MMMM


	4. Chapter 4

His feet were already cold as they neared the edge of the bog, d'Artagnan was shivering and he knew Athos was suffering as well. He felt awful for having taken a step back and putting them all in danger. He had not thought. Now both he and Athos were cold, soaked through with the stagnant water. They were both filthy and he had no boots which would probably only help to slow their progress further.

'Aramis…' said Porthos quietly.

Both d'Artagnan and Athos stopped and turned back. Porthos was shaking the marksman who was now hanging limply from his hold.

'Has he passed out again?' asked Athos taking a couple of steps back to his friends.

Porthos was gently lying the unconscious man down. Athos knelt by the still form, leaning forward and firmly shaking him by the shoulders.

'Aramis wake up.'

Aramis did not respond, Athos looked up at Porthos who stared back barely able to contain the emotion.

'Don't even say it…'

Something caught d'Artagnan's eye on the other side of the bog. A light. A torch flickering, moving towards them.

'I think we've been missed,' he said pointing towards the light.

Athos looked up, then back at Aramis, before finally returning his gaze to Porthos.

'I ain't leavin' him.'

'I heard what he was saying to you earlier. He knew he was slowing us down.'

'Don't ask me to do it,' said Porthos shaking his head.

'They know the way across, they have light...we have nothing to defend ourselves with.'

'I am not leaving him.'

The two men stared at each other for a few seconds. D'Artagnan glanced back at the advancing farmers. He could see the dilemma that each of his friends faced, he was torn as well. Both he and Athos were cold and needed to get warmed up, they could not hide in one place, they needed to keep moving. But Aramis was now a dead weight which would slow them down even further. There was no easy answer to their problem.

'Porthos, please do not make me order you…'

'You can order me all you like, I ain't leaving him...I'll carry 'im.'

'It is too far, we will be too slow.'

'You and d'Artagnan go, we'll catch you up.'

Athos looked back at d'Artagnan who nodded. It was clear that regardless of what Athos said Porthos would refuse to leave their friend behind to an unknown fate. The chances were the farmers would not take any care of their injured brother, Aramis would be left to die. At least Porthos was giving Aramis a small chance. But at the risk of his own life.

'I'm sorry,' said Athos as he rose, 'we'll wait as long as we can at the camp, but if the farmers come after us…'

Porthos nodded, he understood the situation. The impossible position Athos was in, he could not risk the four of them for one man, even if that man was one of their brothers. They all knew Aramis would not want them to risk themselves for him.

Athos moved off towards the trees that Aramis had previously described. Porthos had relayed the instructions as they had continued to walk through the bog.

D'Artagnan glanced back, he looked across the bog, the torches of the farmers were advancing far quicker than he had imagined they would. The farmers were clearly confident they knew their way.

Porthos was in the process of pulling Aramis up to carry him over his shoulder. The marksman did not stir, he hung limply across Porthos who began to follow them as quickly as he could.

MMMM

Porthos knew that Athos was merely doing his job, trying to keep them safe, at least as many of them as he physically could. Porthos did not bear Athos any ill will, but there was no way he would leave his injured friend behind. Particularly as he felt responsible for the marksman's current state of health.

He shifted the weight across his shoulder a little, Aramis was slighter than him but it was still hard work carrying him across the uneven ground in the diminishing light. He could not make out the retreating figures of Athos and d'Artagnan anymore. They had made off towards the trees. Porthos hoped he could reach some form of cover before the farmers reached their side of the bog. The area he was currently moving across offered no cover.

A natural dip in the landscape caught his eye, a couple of small scrubby bushes similar to the one that had tripped Athos earlier hid the hollow. Pausing, Porthos glanced behind him, the pursuing farmers had nearly reached the edge of the bog.

Porthos clambered carefully down into the hollow, lowering the unconscious marksman to the ground. Aramis did not stir, Porthos checked his breathing, the injured man was still breathing steadily. The wound on his leg had stopped bleeding, but Aramis had lost so much blood, Porthos wondered if his effort to save his friend would be in vain.

He hunkered down as low as he could. The sound of the farmers drew nearer, they seemed to know which way to go. They were heading back to the spot where they had been captured. Porthos hoped that Athos and d'Artagnan had reached the relative safety of the trees. They would be harder to spot and could move through quickly. His friends could not afford to stop, they were already showing signs of being affected by their misadventure with the bog when they had left him and Aramis.

The noise of the farmers increased. A group of about ten men guessed Porthos as he tried to push himself down as far as possible, glad that both Aramis and he were wearing dark clothes.

'I'm not prepared to spend all night looking for them,' said one man.

'I agree, it's not worth the bother, I doubt the one you stabbed will make it very far anyway. And I bet they didn't all make it through the bog,' snorted another.

A generally mumbling of agreement and laughter came from the rest of the group. Much as Porthos hated hearing the derisive comments he was pleased to hear that the men were not too invested in recapturing them.

'I wouldn't mind getting that younger one back though, perhaps Luc won't stop us having some fun…'

'You're a bloody heathen, you disgust me,' said one of the other men.

The voices grew quieter as they moved passed and out of earshot. Porthos scowled after them as they went. He hoped his friends could stay ahead of the farmers.

He cast his mind back to the two men who had been trying to drag d'Artagnan away, he had yelled at them as Aramis fought them. When they had knocked Aramis out and stabbed him Porthos had been convinced Luc would allow them to continue to take d'Artagnan away. Porthos wondered what had changed? Why had Luc, who had been impassively watching as the men beat Aramis suddenly decide to have a say in the matter? Did the older farmer have a conscience? Porthos wondered if Luc might have thought twice about executing them? But, thought Porthos, the man had callously left Aramis to bleed to death on the floor of the cellar, perhaps he only had some parts of a conscience. His hatred for authority would probably have won out.

Porthos leaned up and watched the torchlight disappear into the distance. The enforced break had given him a chance to catch his breath. He dragged the still unresponsive marksman out of the hollow before pulling him back up over his shoulder. Porthos continued to head toward the trees watching the torchlight carefully. If the men decided to turn and retrace their steps Porthos would have no choice but to lie down on the ground and hope the men missed them both in the dark as they passed.

Luck was on his side as the torches disappeared into the treeline. There was no sign of the men as Porthos reached the spot where he had lost sight of them. Again he lowered Aramis down. He leaned against a tree for a few minutes, he knew he would not be able to continue as he was for much longer. The very real possibility of leaving Aramis was starting to creep into his thoughts. Porthos tried to push the idea away, but even he was starting to see that he might not have a choice.

MMMM

They had reached the treeline with relative ease. Now that they were free of the restrictive route of the bog and not being slowed down by their injured brother Athos and d'Artagnan had made good time.

Leaving Aramis and consequently, Porthos had been gut-wrenching for Athos. As their leader, he hated to make that kind of decision, but occasionally he had to. He did not begrudge Pothos staying behind. He could not force the man and he knew that if his friend managed to join up with them again, either with or without Aramis, he would not punish Porthos for disobeying him.

They were a tight-knit group, they were willing to die for each other and frequently put themselves in danger to save each other. It just meant that on rare occasions Athos had to make difficult decisions.

'You did the right thing, we couldn't wait, Athos, if we had stayed with them we would have suffered too much, we all could have been recaptured.'

Athos looked across at d'Artagnan who was hobbling along beside him. The toll of walking barefoot already causing him problems. The ground was relatively soft but it was still uncomfortable for him.

'I know,' replied Athos as they continued to walk back to their camp, 'but it does not make it any easier. You know I did not want to tell him to leave Aramis?'

'Of course, you have to make tough decisions, and I can equally see that Porthos was determined that he was not going to leave Aramis behind...do you think, if he dies, that Porthos would leave him then?'

'Yes,' replied Athos sadly, 'he would hate to do so and would want to return as soon as it was safe, but he would have the sense to leave him.'

D'Artagnan was quiet for a few minutes before speaking again.

'Musketeers don't get old do they...'

Athos looked across at him, 'no, we do not.'

They continued, lost in their own thoughts for a few more minutes.

'It's not much further, we can get warmed up a bit...although I doubt a fire would be a good idea,' said d'Artagnan eventually, breaking them both out of their melancholy thoughts.

'Indeed, we do not want to advertise our location.'

They continued in silence for a few minutes until the campsite came into view. It had not been touched by the farmers. The plan had been for them only to spend one night at the camp, consequently they had brought minimal supplies with them, but they had their cloaks and Athos and Aramis' leather doublets were there. Athos looked forward to changing into a dry jacket at the very least. He would insist that d'Artagnan took Aramis', at least for the time being.

He glanced behind him and wondered again if Porthos would make it? Would he still be carrying Aramis?

There had been no sign of the farmers. A few noises and some torchlight had seen them both throwing themselves flat on the ground shortly after they had entered the wooded area, but the men had passed them by, at least two hundred yards away. The men did not appear to know exactly where the Musketeers were. Athos was hopeful that the farmers would not find them.

They spent a few minutes drying off as best they could and pulling on the dry doublets. D'Artagnan used some bandages to wrap around his bare feet to offer him some protection and warmth. Each man armed himself with a gun, they all carried spares when they were on horseback.

D'Artagnan fed the horses and checked the tack on each to ensure they could depart quickly. He attached Aramis' mare to his horse, Athos nodded his approval, neither of them expected the marksman to be able to ride on his own.

Athos wondered how long they could afford to wait for Porthos?

D'Artagnan raised his hand to Athos to gain his attention then pointed back the way they had come. The Musketeer had heard something. Athos strained to hear, there was a faint noise, something or someone was coming.

It could be the farmers, although it did not sound like a group approaching. It could have been some animals, foraging in the darkness. But Athos hoped that it was Porthos.

All they could do was wait, crouched low, aiming their weapons in the direction of the sound.

MMMM


	5. Chapter 5

D'Artagnan lowered his gun and sighed with relief as Porthos pushed his way into the campsite. Athos scrambled up and crossed to him, helping the exhausted man to lower the still unconscious Aramis to the ground.

Porthos sat back panting, d'Artagnan crouched next to him, 'you alright?'

Porthos managed a nod, 'The farmers are still in the wood...I had to stop several times to...evade them...don't think they know where we are.'

Athos was busy checking Aramis over. He looked at Porthos, with a slight smile.

'He's still breathing steadily...if we can get the wound cleaned and stitched I think he might make it…'

The two men looked at each other for a few seconds, unspoken apologies passing between them.

'We can't risk a fire,' said Porthos looking back the way he had come, 'they'll see it...but you two need to get warmed up...we could all do with getting warmed up.'

D'Artagnan stood and hobbled to the edge of their campsite and peered into the woods.

'I can't see any sign of them,' he turned back to the others, 'should we move...can we move him?'

A crack from the other side of the clearing made them all look up, d'Artagnan and Athos drew their weapons.

'Please, monsieurs…'

An old man took a step forward, his arms out to the sides to show he was unarmed. D'Artagnan lowered his weapon slowly, Athos took a couple of steps forward.

'I can help you...you clearly need help,' the man said with a smile as he took a few more steps forward.

Athos was still aiming his gun vaguely in the man's direction.

'Who are you?'

The old man smiled again, 'I am not with the others. I am a farmer, but I am not part of that...mob.'

Athos lowered his gun but remained defensively stood shielding the others.

'My farm is not far from here, I have a cart, your injured friend there is in no state to ride...and I doubt you really want to carry him any further?'

Porthos looked confused.

'I saw you get taken earlier...I watched your return...I feel ashamed that my fellow farmers have treated you like this...you're only doing your job.'

D'Artagnan stepped forward, 'where is your cart?'

'I'll take you…'

D'Artagnan took a few steps towards their horses before Porthos stopped him.

'As you're already wearing his jacket, perhaps you might like to borrow 'is boots as well?'

D'Artagnan smiled as he watched Porthos pulling Aramis' boots off the still man.

'He ain't using them at the moment.'

Athos had crossed to the farmer and was talking to him quietly. Porthos handed the boots to d'Artagnan who sat on the ground to pull them on.

'Do you think he'll be alright?' he said looking at the pale man lying next to Porthos.

Porthos shook his head, 'I don't know.'

D'Artagnan squeezed Porthos shoulder, before standing up again. He crossed to the horses and untied his and Aramis' handing the reins to the farmer.

'I'll be as quick as I can,' he said as he urged his horse forward to follow the farmer.

MMMM

Athos moved to the edge of the camp and watched through the trees. The darkness almost complete, the full moon giving them enough light to guide their movements.

'I am sorry I asked you to leave him…'

'I know...and I didn't like disobeying you...I don't envy you the choices you 'ave to make sometimes.'

Athos huffed, 'I do not envy them myself at times.'

Athos turned to look at his two friends before speaking again, 'there will be no repercussions…'

Porthos nodded before returning his attention back to his friend as he groaned.

'Aramis?'

Athos knelt beside them watching as Aramis slowly opened his eyes, looking at them both.

'Are we still in the marsh?'

Porthos smiled, 'no...back at the camp.'

Aramis frowned, 'how…?'

'You have Porthos to thank for that...I was set to leave you behind,' said Athos rising and crossing to the horses to retrieve a water skin.

'Athos, don't blame yourself for that, you 'ad to,' admonished Porthos as he pulled Aramis up to sit, leaning the injured man against his chest.

Athos crouched in front of them both, he helped Aramis to drink a little water before speaking again.

'I should have been able to come up with another solution...rather than just abandoning him.'

'He is right here,' said Aramis quietly, reaching up to grasp Athos wrist, 'and you know it would have been the right thing to do. I was slowing you all down...I still don't know how you got me here.'

'Porthos carried you. D'Artagnan and I were forced to leave you.'

Aramis smiled, 'd'Artagnan's little adventure in the bog, you were both soaked.'

Athos managed a small smile.

MMMM

Aramis did not stay awake for long, Porthos remained where he was cradling his sleeping friend. Athos returned to watching out for the rebellious farmers.

The cart, driven by d'Artagnan, rumbled into view on the other side of the clearing.

'Yves is sorting out some food for us all,' he said as he climbed down from the small cart.

He helped Porthos to lift Aramis and carry him across to the cart. Porthos clambered onto the back of the cart with his friend while Athos mounted his horse and led Porthos'.

'It's only a small house, but he says we are welcome to stay as long as is necessary.'

The short journey passed without incident. The farmer was waiting for them when they arrived. He directed them to lay Aramis on his bed.

'Are you sure monsieur?' asked Athos.

'His need is greater than mine at the moment...and you need to change out of your wet clothes, both of you,' Yves said looking between Athos and d'Artagnan.

The old man nodded towards a small pile of clothing neatly arranged on a table, 'They are not much, but they will do whilst you wait for your own clothes to dry.'

The two soaked men quickly stripped off and changed into the old clothes. Porthos chuckled when they had finished.

'You both look quite the part now.'

As they had changed Porthos had stripped Aramis and with the farmers help cleaned the stab wound to his friend's leg.

'Are any of you field medics?' asked the farmer.

When Porthos nodded towards Aramis the farmer smiled.

'You really have not had any luck, have you? Fortunately, I am good with a needle myself, do you think your friend would mind?'

'He would not,' said Athos as he moved to the side of the bed.

The farmer busied himself preparing what he would need, as he did so he continued to talk to them, Porthos realised the man was keeping them distracted on purpose. Yves did not want them to dwell on what had happened.

'I used to have a farm hand, a young lad called Pierre. He managed to have an altercation with Phillip - the goat. The beast kicked him, caught him across the side. Nasty wound it was. I had to sew the lad up. Poor boy howled in pain, but bless him, he kept still for me. Broke my heart when I couldn't afford to keep him on anymore. I often wonder what happened to him.'

'He's a Musketeer,' said d'Artagnan after a moments surprised thought.

Porthos and Athos looked at him.

'Pierre's last name is Chevrier isn't it?' asked d'Artagnan as the others realised who their friend meant.

Yves nodded, 'really, a Musketeer?'

'Yes, he showed me the scar not long after he joined us, said the goat, Phillip, was a demonic creature.'

'That goat is still a demonic creature. I can't bring myself to sell him or slaughter him, so he just struts around like he owns the place. Although he's an old boy now.'

They lapsed into silence for a few minutes as Yves stitched the wound to Aramis' leg.

'Perhaps you would like to help me with the food young man, you can tell me how Pierre is getting on?' suggested Yves after he had dressed the wound.

D'Artagnan left the room with Yves. Porthos could hear them talking in the other room, the farmer laughing occasionally.

A shout from outside drew their attention.

MMMM

'Yves…' came a voice from outside.

Athos crossed to the window and peered out, he quickly ducked down indicating for Porthos to do the same.

'It's the farmers,' he whispered.

D'Artagnan appeared in the doorway, crouching down, looking out toward the main room. He glanced back to Athos.

'He's gone out to talk to them. He said to keep quiet, he'll get rid of them.'

The three men remained silently listening as the conversation between the farmers and Yves continued.

'Have you seen them?'

'No one has been here...now get off my farm, you know you're not welcome here.'

'You should be joining us, not turning us away,' one of the farmers called back to Yves.

'I told you before, I understand why you are protesting, but I don't agree with your methods.'

There was a pause before the farmer replied, 'well if you see any strangers...what was that?'

Athos looked around at Porthos who was struggling to keep a suddenly conscious Aramis quiet.

The marksman had come around as they listened to the conversation outside. Clearly confused and in pain he had groaned. Porthos had been given no choice but to clamp his hand over his friend's mouth to keep him from making any noise. Now the panicked, confused man, was struggling against Porthos, trying to prise the hand away from his face.

'I heard something…'

'I didn't hear anything,' replied Yves slightly louder.

D'Artagnan had joined Porthos in his attempt to get Aramis to understand that he was not being attacked. Aramis continued to struggle against them.

Athos looked back out of the window before turning back to them and whispering, 'hide...one of them is coming this way.'

Porthos' eyes widened for a second before he grabbed Aramis and bodily hauled him off the bed and out of sight onto the floor. He wrapped his arms and legs around the still struggling man. D'Artagnan dropped to the floor and slid under the bed. Athos pressed himself against the wall under the window.

Athos could still hear Aramis' faint protests, he hoped their friend would not inadvertently give them away.

'I can't see anyone,' said the man who had walked over to the house.

Yves said firmly, 'like I said, there is no one here, now get off my farm.'

They heard a few angry bleats and the sound of wood being knocked and cracked.

'Is that creature diseased?'

'That creature is annoyed that you are still on my land, clear off.'

'Get it away from me,' shouted one of the farmers as the goat broke free of his pen.

Athos took a chance and glanced back out of the window. Phillip had knocked down the inadequate fencing and charged at the farmers. One of the men was pressed against the trunk of a tree. The goat stared at him for a few seconds before bowing his head and charging full pelt at the man. Hitting him, hard, in the groin. The man howled in pain as Phillip turned and sauntered back to Yves apparently satisfied he had shown the intruders who was in charge.

Another of the farmers pulled the injured man up as they started to move off. The injured man was virtually being carried by two of the others.

Yves remained outside until the last of the farmers had disappeared from sight. Athos saw him breathe a sigh of relief before returning to the house. He shut the door and entered the bedroom.

'They've gone, I think Phillip scared them off.'

MMMM

Athos and d'Artagnan quickly moved to help Porthos who was still hanging onto a now weakly protesting Aramis. Athos put himself in Aramis eyeline.

'Calm down...the farmers were outside, we needed you to be quiet.'

Porthos slowly released his grip on his friend who was breathing hard. They helped to get him back onto the bed. Aramis looked at Porthos.

'Sorry...I...when you grabbed me…'

'Hey, don't worry about it,' said Porthos with a smile.

D'Artagnan helped Porthos to get Aramis comfortable whilst Athos described what he had seen from the window.

'Do you think they'll come back again?' asked d'Artagnan as he handed Aramis a bowl of soup that Yves had brought through to them.

Porthos looked towards the window for a few moments before replying.

'When I was hiding from them I overheard them speaking…' he said, 'they didn't seem too invested in finding us,' he paused.

'What?' asked d'Artagnan.

A small smile played across Porthos' lips, 'the farmer who was attacked by the goat...I recognised his voice, 'e was the one that was trying to take you away. I doubt he's gonna be all that interested for a bit from the sounds of things.'

D'Artagnan looked away for a second, 'good,' he said quietly before looking at Aramis, 'I'm sorry you were hurt because of me.'

Aramis smiled as he replied, 'any of us would have done the same thing.'

It was Porthos' turn to look away. Both Aramis and d'Artagnan noticed.

'And it's still not your fault I got hurt either,' said Aramis.

'If I hadn't made a nuisance of myself you might not have been…'

D'Artagnan thought for a moment, 'you do realise, Porthos, that the only reason I was knocked out was because I made a nuisance of myself as well. I fought back as well when they surrounded us.'

'He's right,' said Aramis glancing across at the big musketeer who seemed a little placated.

MMMM

Athos watched Porthos and d'Artagnan repairing the fencing around Phillip's pen for a few minutes before he turned to Aramis who was watching him.

'Don't apologise again Athos,' said Aramis, 'you had to think of the bigger picture.'

'I know, but it does not make it any easier. I was prepared to leave you to die.'

'Yes. And it would have been the correct thing to do. You and d'Artagnan needed to keep moving to keep warm. I'm just lucky we have the stubborn one to look out for me.'

Athos managed a smirk, 'he was adamant he was not going to leave you. He told me he would even ignore me if I ordered him to...I am not much of a leader if I cannot order my men around.'

Aramis smiled, 'but you both made the right decisions. And I am grateful. If he had listened to you I would have died and if you had stayed with him, and me, we all might have died.'

'I would like to go a week without making a single decision,' said Athos.

'Unfortunately,' replied Aramis, 'I doubt that will ever happen.'

The End.

Authors note: thanks for all the reviews.

Inspiration struck and I am already writing another, with a second one in the planning stages.


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